I threw myself across the bed and beat the pillows while it throbbed. How was I ever going to get this house cleaned out and remodeled if my foot rotted off? Its arch was turning purple, but I could still wiggle all my toes and put weight on it. It appeared that nothing was broken-thank goodness! I needed that foot to kick Drew.

I lugged the shelf to the top of the stairs and chucked it to the bottom. It clattered and rattled all the way down, landing only a few inches from a table with a huge lamp shaped like a Siamese cat. I was going to have to practice my aim. With luck, by the time I threw the last shelf, I'd break the cat into a million pieces. I wouldn't even fuss about having to clean up the mess if I could accomplish that feat before nightfall.

It was dark when I finished in the bedroom. If Drew knew what was good for him, he'd catch the red-eye home tonight instead of waiting until the next day. My arms ached so badly that I could hardly make a sandwich, but my aim hadn't improved a bit. I hadn't hit the cat lamp even though I'd tried. If he came home now, I wouldn't have the energy to even utter angry words in argument, much less kick him with my sore foot. I might have the energy to pull a trigger if I hadn't left my .22 behind in my fit of anger. Apparently Gert had known better than to tempt the devil, because either she didn't keep guns in the house or I hadn't found one. - - - - - - - - - - -- --

I made a ham and tomato sandwich slathered thickly with mayonnaise and liked it so well, I ate another one. My tired muscles protested when I started up the stairs, but I didn't listen to them. After a soaking bath, I went to bed in a nice, cool room completely devoid of animals with beady little black eyes. -- - - - - -- - - - - - - - -

I laced my hands behind my head and thought about the next day. My stomach didn't knot up. Drew's clothes and the house were in shambles. I'd faced off with Charity down at the bank and basically told everyone where they could go and which poker to ride. I wasn't taking one step backward. From now on everything was full speed ahead and damn the torpedoes, even if one was named Drew.

Billy Lee and I were in my bedroom measuring for new carpet and talking about paint when the doorbell rang and the door creaked open. Heavy footsteps crossed the foyer and moved up the staircase. I hopped up and peeked out the bedroom door into my husband's uplifted eyes when he put his foot on the third step.

I shook a finger at him. "You stop right there, and don't take another step."

My tone shocked him so badly that he backed up and stopped in the foyer. That gave me courage to go on. He was not bringing the fight to me on his terms. I was taking it to him ... on mine.

I leaned on the banister and took the steps two at a time, even though my foot ached. "You have no right to walk into my house as if you were welcome. Out on the porch! I'm not discussing anything with you in here."

At about that time, Billy Lee stepped onto the landing.

Drew's face registered pure disgust. "What is that nitwit doing here? Have you been. . " He narrowed his eyes at me. "Trudy, what have you done? And what have you done to your hair? You know I hate it short"

I opened the front door and pointed.

He stomped out onto the porch, and I followed.

He opened his mouth, but I took off before he could say anything. "Number one, don't you ever call Billy Lee Tucker a nitwit or any other name again. He's got more integrity in one toenail than you've got in your whole body. Number two, I'm working on remodeling this house to live in it. Number three, I really don't care if you like my hair or not, Drew."

It was his turn to shake a finger at me. "I'm going to have you sent off to a mental institution. Are you shacking up with the village idiot too?"

I got so close to his nose that I had to look at him crosseyed. "What's it to you if I am? You're messing around with the village bimbo. And you are not sending me anywhere. I'm saner than I have been since the day I made the biggest mistake of my life and married you"

"You mean you regret Crystal?" he snapped.

"That is a stupid question! My only regret is that I cursed her with a lying, cheating father."

He glared at me. "You are as crazy as Gert. That was the thing about you that worried my folks."

"You should have listened to them. But Gert was a lot smarter than me. She figured out the first year what kind of man she'd married. I didn't figure out things until a couple of days ago, so I haven't gotten a thing but a reputation for being a naive fool. She got jewelry every time Lonnie had an affair. Your newest toy has a brand-new Thunderbird. I didn't get one, did I?"

He crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. "I'd say what you got out of the bank would compensate for anything I've done"

If looks could kill, he wouldn't be anything but a greasy spot on my rotting porch. "What I took amounts to five thousand dollars a year. I don't think that compensates for anything you've done"

For the past three days I had been busy figuring out ways to kill Drew. Now that he stood before me, merely arguing seemed to be killing him quicker than a dose of rat poison or a bullet between the eyes. He didn't have any idea how to fight with his wife; but then, he'd had no experience. I'd never stood up to him or called him names before. He was in brand-new territory without a compass.

He dropped his arms to his sides and hung his head. "I'm so sorry, Trudy. I messed up bad. You are a good woman, Trudy. Can't you forgive me for one little mistake?"

He almost had me there for a minute-until I realized that he was lying about the number of infidelities and that he hadn't said anything about loving me. Had he ever?

I shook my head. "The old Trudy was a good woman. I'm not, and I will not forgive you"

His tone went from warm to cold instantly. "Come on, Trudy, be sensible. This fling was my first one," he lied. "It's a male-menopause thing. I am past forty, and my life is slipping away. I hate getting old. I'll buy you a new car tomorrow. So, what do you say?" He touched my arm.

Cockroaches crawling across my skin couldn't have been more repulsive. I picked up his hand and removed it from my arm.

That's when he lost it. Daggers shot out of his eyes. His face turned the color of day-old liver, and I thought for a minute he was going to fall down on my porch and start slobbering. And my cell phone was lying in a ditch, so I'd have to go inside to call 911. Of course, I could sit down on the steps and see if he came out of it on his own before I went inside the house and called. But, dang it all, he started yelling again. Some days I couldn't catch a lucky break.

"I never wanted to marry you," he said icily.

"I'll make it easy for you to be footloose and fancy-free, then. Either you file for divorce, or I will."

"The money you stole from me won't last you a lifetime, and that nit .. " He stopped and took half a step toward me.

"Don't finish that, or I'll kick you off this porch," I said.

He backed up two steps. "Billy Lee can't give you what you are used to. This is your last chance, woman. Either walk your fat rear end out there and get into my car, or I'll have divorce papers served tomorrow morning."

I smiled. "My fat rear end will be glad to get them. The only thing I'll fight to the death for is my maiden name back. I don't want to be affiliated with the cheating, slimy name of Williams ever again. I'd take a job picking the white tops off chicken droppings before I took another penny of your precious money, so I won't even fight you for half of what you've got"